"The place is luckily near; and the business will soon be brought to an end, my love." A something indefinable in his heart made him add, mentally, "one way or another."
But he gave no utterance to the gloomy doubt; and the little party rode away.
[CHAPTER XXXVI.]
A calm, quiet evening, with the wind at south, the sun setting red in clouds, and a gray vapour stealing over the sky, with every prospect of a coming storm, and yet everything still and sober in solemn tranquillity, often puts me in mind of those pauses in the busy course of life which precede some great and decisive event. It is very strange, too, but I have remarked that it not unfrequently happens that such an aspect of external nature comes, as it, were, to harmonize with our feelings when we take a brief pause upon the brink of great events, destined to bring fruition or disappointment to all the hopes of life.
Such an evening was that which Lord H---- and Edith and Mr. Prevost spent together at the house where so many of these scenes have been laid, after quitting Fort Edward in the morning. Their journey had passed quite peaceably; they had encountered no human being but a few bands of friendly Indians, going to join the army; and the ride, as every one knows, was, and still is, a very beautiful one. It had occupied hardly four hours, and thus the principal part of the day had been spent in tranquillity in a scene endeared to all.
Mr. Prevost had retired to his room to write, and Lord H---- and Edith sat together in front of the house gazing out towards the setting sun. There are few things really sublime on earth; but amongst the most sublime are those moments when we sit beside a fellow-being so linked to us by love that our existence seems but as a part of his or hers, our hopes, our fears, our happiness, our joy, identified; and yet, in the course of mortal fate, the approach of some dark hour of parting keeps ever whispering in our ear, "Ye are not truly one. Though mingling every thought and feeling; though heart beat with heart, and mind walk with mind; though each breast is open to the other, as to the eyes of conscience and of God; though linked and bound by every aspiration and by every sentiment, ye are two, and ye must sever." The sensation is very painful, but it is sublime in its intensity; and such were the sensations of Edith and her lover as they sat there and watched the setting sun.
They talked of many things, some not at all connected with the circumstances of the present or the future; they feared to dwell upon them too long, and they often sought relief in indifferent topics; still the coming hour was vaguely present to the mind of each. It was like sitting near a waterfall, with the quiet, melancholy murmur of the cataract mingling harmoniously, but sadly, with every other sound.
"I trust, dear Edith, that we shall see it together," said Lord H----, speaking of the distant land where they both had birth. "Many a lovely thing is to be met with in the old world, both in nature and in art; and though I love these beautiful scenes well, and enjoy as much as any one the magnificence of unadorned Nature, yet methinks that is no reason why we should not appreciate to the full all that is fine or lovely, though of a different kind and character. It is the narrow-minded man--the man of an uncapacious soul, who suffers one sort of excellence alone to take possession of his taste or heart. Beauty and goodness are infinitely varied; and though I may love some aspects best, yet I trust ever to be capable of deriving pleasure from each and all."
"But you have seen all these things, George," she answered; "will it not weary you to go over them all again, with so untutored a companion as myself?"
He gazed at her for a moment, with a look of earnest affection, and gently pressed the hand he held in his.